


Say something

by jeongshook



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Angst, Cancer, Coma, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, it's actually kinda sad, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeongshook/pseuds/jeongshook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When he and Stiles move in together, Sheriff Stilinski warns him about the panic attacks; they are very rare by then, Derek himself never had to deal with Stiles having one in the two years they’ve been together. That’s the reason why when Derek comes home one night to find Stiles sitting in the hallway, their hallway with his back against the wall, rocking himself back and forth with his head between his knees, he obviously doesn’t know what to do."</p><p>(But then he finds out)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say something

Derek only ever sings to Stiles. 

Not because he doesn’t like singing or because he’s afraid to do so in front of other people. It never really occurs to him before Stiles, but he just doesn’t sing at all. Not even when he’s alone in his room or in the shower, not even when he’s listening to music all by himself. He always finds himself lip syncing or humming along to a song, but never actually singing.

*

When he and Stiles move in together, Sheriff Stilinski warns him about the panic attacks; they are very rare by then, Derek himself never had to deal with Stiles having one in the two years they’ve been together. He’s happy that Stiles is finally able to just let it go; the guilt, the fear, the pain of his mother’s death. He cherishes the happy memories of her and Derek can see the relief Stiles gets, he can see it in the shine in his eyes, in the sound of his laughter, the way he talks about his mother - they all change in the slightest bit, helping both Stiles and Derek to be overall happier.  
That’s the reason why when Derek comes home one night to find Stiles sitting in the hallway, their hallway with his back against the wall, rocking himself back and forth with his head between his knees, he obviously doesn’t know what to do. His mind registers the problem immediately and he knows what he should do – in theory. What he doesn’t know is why he’s feeling the panic rising inside of him as well, all he knows is that he has to help Stiles and he doesn’t know how to. He kneels beside him, taking one of his cold hands in his own. Stiles is shivering.

“Stiles, please talk to me. _Stiles_ ,” he pleads and Stiles looks up. His face is oddly calm. You can tell something’s not right but his face doesn’t reflect fear or panic – although Derek knows that’s exactly what he must be feeling – Stiles just looks overwhelmed, tired and exhausted. Not that that’s good. But Derek knows he isn’t just tired, he knows what the problem is so why can’t he help him?  
Stiles is clutching his hand like his life depends on it and he looks so very pale and weak. Derek contemplates calling Sheriff Stilinski to ask for some help, but decides against it. Instead he opts for asking Stiles what he should do.

“Breathe, Stiles. Come on. I know I’m not helping much,” he apologizes „but if you could just tell me what I can do to help-”  
If he’s being honest, Stiles doesn’t exactly look like he can tell him anything right now. But he leans in anyway when Stiles pulls him closer by his hand, clutching it for dear life.

“Sing?” Stiles breathes out eventually. It comes out like a question, like he isn’t sure Derek would.  
Derek first thinks he heard it wrong but Stiles croaks that word out again. He looks into Stiles’ eyes – they are full of pleading and are the most beautiful brown and to be honest, Derek never loved anything in his life as much as he loves this man right here. He takes a deep breath and starts to sing.

*

It gets easier after that. Stiles tells him about how he’d hum his way through a panic attack if he could or how his dad or Scott would sing for him, and Derek listens and asks him about his favorite songs and instruments. They talk about it like it’s the easiest thing. In the next couple of months Stiles has another panic attack and this time Derek knows how he can really help. And now that Stiles has Derek to sing for him it’s really so much easier. He just rests his forehead in the crook of Derek’s neck and lets him sing and hum into his hair, caressing his back and rocking them back and forth on their bed. He feels it float away, he feels more relaxed, more at peace. He likes how Derek makes him feel. 

When it’s over Stiles sighs out a thanks and it only makes Derek hug him tighter. When Stiles realizes he’s not going to let him go, he just makes himself comfortable and they fall asleep still in their clothes, limbs entwined, breathing synchronized.  
Derek doesn’t ask about the panic attack.

*

They are in the Stilinski household when they first hear about the piano. It’s Christmas and they’ve decided to spend it with the Sherriff (“We can’t just leave him alone on Christmas night, Stiles!”).

“Son” Sheriff Stilinski greets Stiles grasping his shoulder with a firm hand. “It’s good to see you.”  
“Yeah, you too, dad” he answers, not really paying attention just hurrying inside. They can hug when he’s not freezing anymore. They hang their coats and kick their shoes off, getting snow and water all over the place. It’s warm and welcoming. It feels like home.  
They chat about anything and everything and eat until they can’t talk anymore, and if they don’t move to the living room right now Stiles is going to fall asleep at the kitchen table and that’s kinda rude. Luckily his dad thinks exactly the same and soon they’re sprawled over the couch with beers in their hands, watching one of those lame Christmas movies that make you want to kill yourself if you dare and pay attention (so they don’t). They sit in comfortable silence for the remainder of the movie until Sheriff Stilinski claps his hands together, standing up. 

“So,” he starts, scratching his neck, “figuring out what to give you gave me lots of headaches over the past month, but…” He doesn’t finish the sentence instead he enters the guest room next to the living room, obviously waiting for them to follow. Stiles lets Derek help him up from the couch and only lets go of his hand when he covers his mouth in shock. In the guest room stands a piano, no, no, not just any piano, it’s _his mom’s_ piano, only it’s obviously has been repainted, repaired and restored.  
He’s not going to cry. Nope, not here, not now. He looks at his father, then at Derek, then the white piano.  
“I hope it’s not too cheesy,” his dad says “but it’s been sitting up there for so long and I know how much you love to play. Or loved to- do you still? I’m sorry if it’s not the best present, but I got it restored and-“  
“It’s perfect,” Stiles interrupts. “Thank you, dad” Stiles crosses the room and embraces his father in a hug. Both of their eyes are shining with tears, and Derek doesn’t understand until later on, when they’re on their way home and Stiles tells him about how his mother taught him how to play the piano when he was little.

“She used to teach piano, too; I always wanted to listen when she gave lessons at home but she wouldn’t let me.” Stiles closes his eyes at the memory.  
“So you asked her to teach you?” Derek asks, his eyes softening.  
He sighs. “Yes. We would play together in the afternoons and sometimes on weekends. When I found out she was sick, I insisted on learning as much as I could from her. And after she—passed, I took classes so I could continue playing. It just… it kinda felt like I carried a piece of her within me, y’know?”  
Derek doesn’t know whether he should cry or smile – he kind of wants to do both. It’s nice to have Stiles talk to him about his mother because it’s always been a sensitive subject, and at the same time he feels his stomach drop; it’s this somehow familiar feeling of grief and loneliness and not being able to help. It makes him want to scream, but he doesn’t say anything about it.  
“You should play for me sometime,” he says instead, giving Stiles a reassuring smile. He smiles back and the heavy feeling is gone, affection and love taking its place in Derek’s stomach. 

*

Stiles does play for him after they finally place the piano in their living room a week later. It takes a few minutes for him to warm up (“I haven’t played in _years_ ,” he says “I’m probably a bit rusty.”) but after that it’s truly amazing. Derek isn’t one to appreciate music but this is so much more than that. He can somehow see Stiles connecting to his mother; he can see him going through memories as he remembers songs and melodies. Stiles keeps telling him these little moments and stories about how he learned the songs, how he used to sit and joke with his mother and just be happy that the soft sound of the piano embraced them. Derek loves every second of it. He stores them away in the back of his mind just like he stores everything else he learns about Stiles. 

Stiles keeps playing almost every other day and Derek is always there to listen. He sits there and listens to his boyfriend playing, watches him with affection in his eyes. Sometimes they talk about their days – Derek often comes home irritated with his job and his boss, Erica, so he feels like it’s best if he talks it out while they sit there – then he listens to Stiles go on about the school he works at as a history teacher. He grows to love the sound of the piano and the songs Stiles plays for him.

“You should sing with me, y’know” Stiles says one night. They’re lying in bed and watching LOST because it’s an obsession they share and they can’t watch it enough times. Stiles’ hand is in his hair, tracing slow patterns on his head. “I really love your voice.”  
“I really love you,” Derek answers.  
Stiles chuckles. “I just love your voice; it’s why I moved in with you. I never loved you, I hope you know that.”  
Derek tilts his head so he can look at Stiles and he’s fucking glowing in the dim light of their bedroom and Derek wants to kiss him, so he does. 

The next time he joins in on the singing. Stiles insists on teaching him how to play, but Derek doesn’t want to; he feels like singing is much more of his thing.

For him, music never was something he found comfort in; it was only for his entertainment. Never something he could do or enjoy with someone he loves, never this exciting, never this important. But Stiles somehow managed to turn every aspect of his life around and this is no exception. He learned to appreciate the small things in life, learned to be gentle, learned to love on a whole new level. And now he’s learning to love music like Stiles does. It isn’t just for entertainment or background noise anymore. It’s shelter, comfort. It’s an escape. When he’s singing with Stiles it’s like nothing matters, like it’s only the two of them. He doesn’t know how this bubble of theirs embraces them when they’re playing together; he just knows he doesn’t want these moments to end.

*

“I have cancer.”

They are sitting at the piano, having just finished a Fleetwood Mac song, one of Stiles’ favorites. They are so close to each other, side to side; Derek feels Stiles hunch his shoulders and sigh. He looks at Stiles, really looks at him, trying to find any sign that might give away that he’s joking – because of course he is joking, he can’t actually have cancer. That’s just– that’s ridiculous.  
His head is hung low, he’s looking at his lap, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth – a habit he can’t get rid of. Derek shoves the thought of how he might not actually be joking to the back of his mind and focuses on getting Stiles to talk to him, to tell the truth.  
“What?” he asks, and his voice sounds smaller than he’d like it to.

Stiles looks into his eyes and that – that’s what it takes for Derek to believe. He has this look of regret and fear and something Derek can’t quite place, and it hurts him to look at it. His stomach drops too heavy and his head starts spinning too fast.  
“Say something” he hears Stiles say. His voice is shaky and his hands are shaking and Derek gets nauseous at the sight.  
He doesn’t end up saying anything. He throws his right leg over the seat they’re sitting on and hugs Stiles so gently he fears the other man doesn’t even feel it. But he does, and he starts sobbing right away as he feels Derek’s arms circle him. He turns and scrambles towards Derek on the seat, grabbing at his shoulders, his shirt, his face, anything he can touch. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—“ he sobs into Derek’s shirt where his neck meets his shoulder. “I didn’t know how to tell you, I didn’t know and I just wish I’d told you sooner, I’m so sorry Derek, I didn’t—“  
“It’s—it’s okay, Stiles, don’t be sorry,” he takes his face into his hands, caressing Stiles’ damp cheekbones with his thumbs. “You don’t have to be, it’s not your fault,” he continues, looking into honey brown eyes filled with what looks like fear. Stiles keeps shaking his head rapidly in Derek’s hands, and then he drops it again, shutting his eyes and whispering apologies over and over again. He clings to Derek like his life depends on it.  
“Please don’t leave. _Please_ ,” he pleads, like he’s afraid Derek is actually going to stand up and leave him, doesn’t realize that he’s never going to leave, that he would never even think of something like that.

He suddenly understands that other panic attack from a month ago.

*

They talk about it, eventually, and it’s difficult for Derek to remain strong. He tries to keep a straight face, tries to remain calm and reasonable because he knows Stiles can’t be any of those things right now. It takes a lot of effort. He often finds himself contemplating if he’s processed it yet. He always figures he hasn’t.

*

Derek makes distracting Stiles his most important task. He knows it’s because it’s kind of the only way he can help; it’s the only thing he can do to feel a bit better about himself. If there’s one thing he hates it’s not being able to help, especially if it’s about Stiles. And right now, everything is about Stiles. Derek can’t get through a day without having a mini mental breakdown (he does it discreetly, of course), and he’s always thinking about how he could help him, how he could make this easier for Stiles. He hates knowing that he can’t do anything to really help.  
Sometimes it’s working – other times, not so much. 

He asks Stiles to teach him how to play the piano, even if just a little. He takes Stiles to controls, and he takes him to work, takes him out on dates, but it’s only until night that they can pretend like everything’s alright.

“I’m afraid of what will happen when I— you know“ Stiles whispers into the darkness of their bedroom, and somehow that “you know” hurts more than anything he could’ve said. He can’t sleep through a night anymore, and of course Derek is up with him most of the time.  
“Why?”  
“Because I feel like—when I lost my mom, I totally broke down. My dad did, too. He didn’t always show it, but I knew he was just as devastated as me and I just—I don’t want that happening to you. To any of you. I feel terrible for having cancer, as ridiculous as that sounds.”  
“Hey,” Derek starts, his voice soft. “don’t be. I mean it.”  
“I can’t just _not_ be, you know!” Stiles answers with bitterness in his voice.

Derek doesn’t argue with him. He can’t imagine what Stiles must feel like, knowing how it feels to lose someone so close to you like that, and on top of that knowing that people will lose him like that, too.  
“I just don’t want you to experience that.” Stiles whispers, this time softly. Derek places lazy kisses all over Stiles’ face and neck until he falls asleep.

*

It’s nights like this Derek is most afraid of – nights when Stiles is being held in the hospital. He knows it’s so they can help him, but he keeps feeling like something’s going to go wrong if he isn’t beside him.

He knows he can’t be beside Stiles every second of every day, but he could be there with him right now – except they won’t let him stay the night. He kind of knows it’s not the best idea, seeing how he can’t actually do anything, but just being able to see Stiles would make him feel more at peace.  
Sheriff Stilinski invites him over, since it’s game night and it feels good to slip back into their normal routine for a while. They have dinner and a few beers, they watch the game, they even laugh and joke, but the air is heavy around them. Derek knows they’re going to have to talk about it sometime, but he doesn’t know how the Sherriff feels about it and he’s not going to ask.

“I’m terrified, Derek” he says after minutes of silence and Derek appreciates it, because it can’t be easy to admit it even to yourself, let alone someone else. “It’s been fifteen years since I lost my wife and I’m not prepared to lose my son. I see Claudia in him in the best ways and goddamn, he’s only 25. It’s just—it’s too soon.”  
“It is,” Derek agrees, averting his eyes from the older man. “I don’t think any of us can be prepared to lose him, he’s like this—he brings happiness into everyone’s lives just by existing and being himself and he doesn’t even know it. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love your son, John, and I can’t lose him. Not like this. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and he doesn’t deserve this. He deserves so much better. He deserves everything, and yet—“ He finishes with a sigh.  
When he realizes all the things he admitted to in his monologue, he looks up to find the Sheriff with tears streaming down his face. The next moment, he completely breaks down in front of Derek and starts crying, questioning God and fate and pleading for no one in particular for it to be over, for Stiles to be okay; he just keeps on crying, even when Derek embraces him in a firm hug, and the sight of him breaks his heart. Derek cries a bit too, listening to John letting out all his anger and pain, crying and screaming into his shoulder. They stay like that until it’s time for Derek to leave.

They never tell Stiles.

*

Derek gets the call on a particularly busy day at work, and it doesn’t turn out pretty. They’re already missing a few workers and Erica is pissed at the universe and Derek has at least two hours of filing to do and he’s going to have to do after hours again – and then his phone rings. He considers ignoring it because he really doesn’t have the luxury of talking right now, but he checks the caller, just to be sure.

It’s Sheriff Stilinski.

He tries not to break down as he listens to the Sheriff’s slightly panicked voice explaining how it happened – “it” being Stiles’ lungs filling up with water and collapsing and him being taken to the hospital and the probability of surgery. They’ve been thinking about surgery for a while, but they’ve been informed it’s nearly impossible with Stiles’ tumor. It hits Derek that they don’t really have a choice anymore. He feels panic rise inside him.  
“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” he promises, then hangs up. He gives himself a moment to process that this is happening, Stiles is in the hospital, it’s not in the future anymore, it’s now. Derek is terrified. He gathers his things, abandoning his papers and his files, hurrying out of his office. Of course, Erica jumps onto him in a moment.

“Where are you going?” she asks, and maybe it wasn’t meant to come out as bitchy as it did, but it really is a stressful day, and she’s only human.  
“I have to go,” Derek simply says and goes for the door. He doesn’t want to talk to her, to look at her, to look at anyone right now; he just wants to be at the hospital as soon as he can. He feels like the world is spinning and the ground is crumbling under his feet and he can’t make it in time. He feels like his life has been flipped upside down, and not in the right way. He wants to throw up, but he doesn’t have the time.

*

“I’m staying here tonight,” Derek says to Melissa McCall as soon as he spots her. “I’m going to get some stuff for him and come back, and I’m staying with him.”

She only nods and leads him to an opening door. Sherriff Stilinski comes out, shaking his head at him, looking absolutely broken. Seeing him like this makes Derek want to cry. He doesn’t deserve this, hell, no one deserves this. Derek grips his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but he can’t find it in himself to look hopeful.  
When he enters the room, he feels his heart break. His stomach drops at the sight before him. Stiles is hooked up to all these machines – Derek doesn’t know what they’re for, all he knows is there are lots of them and Stiles is tubed up and he looks paler and skinnier than ever. His skin had lost all its color and shine – now it’s kind of grayish and very dry-looking. His eyes are surrounded by dark circles; his lips are chapped and dry. Derek lets out a wounded sound. His eyes fill up with tears.

“It’s only been a month. They said six. They said six months, and it’s barely been a month and he’s here. He’s—“ he starts saying, his voice full of hope, but Melissa interrupts him.  
“Derek, he’s in a coma” she informs him, her own tears threatening to slip. “and he’s—we don’t know if he’s going to wake up.” she finishes, looking into his eyes. He knows it’s her job to remain strong in situations like this, but Stiles is like her second son. Derek knows it’s not easy for her either.  
He doesn’t know how he gets home and back to the hospital. The only thing he can think of is the image of Stiles lying there, looking like there’s nothing but those machines keeping him alive. When he realizes that actually is the case, he has to pull over and starts _really_ crying for the first time in years.

*

Derek stays the night, and the nights after that. He catches a few hours of sleep but it’s not much. It’s definitely not enough to keep him going through his days normally; he talks to Erica on the phone, explaining the situation and hoping he doesn’t get fired, but then again, the last thing he’s worried about right now is his shitty job that pays well but stresses him out to no end. It’d probably be best to leave it anyway.  
He talks to Melissa a lot. She tells him stories about Stiles when he was younger and they warm his heart, even if for just a few moments. Scott visits a lot too, sometimes with Allison and their daughter Faith. Teachers from Stiles’ school visit too, bringing flowers and get well-cards. He accepts them with a smile, talks to them for a bit, then goes back to Stiles.

He always holds his hand, strokes his hair, and kisses his moles. He talks to him a lot, too. He talks to him about the people he meets at the hospital, about his dad and Scott, about how he feels and how he wishes Stiles would wake up. He tells him how he hasn’t showered in days because he can’t go home, not while Stiles is lying in this hospital bed like this. He pleads, begs for him to wake up, sometimes desperately and with tears streaming down his face. He hopes Stiles can hear him.  
“You still look like an angel. I wish you’d wake up and it would all just go away,” he whispers to Stiles. “I wish a genie would grant me three wishes; but one would be enough for me,” he continues, as he rubs circles into Stiles’ hand with his thumbs. “I’d wish for you to wake up and be okay. It’s all I want. Baby, please wake up. I know you can hear me.

“Say something” It’s not the first time Derek’s said that to him. It’s all he wishes for.

*

When Melissa finally orders him home after several days at the hospital, he takes a shower and collapses in bed. He’s grateful it’s the weekend, because he isn’t sure he would be able to even get to work, let alone actually do something. He feels exhausted and drained. He walks around aimlessly for God knows how long until he finally ends up sitting at the piano. The very piano Stiles was so eager to learn to play when he found out his mother was sick. The same piano Derek practiced with when he learned Stiles was sick. He suddenly understands the feeling Stiles was talking about – when you feel like you carry a bit of them within you if you treat the things they taught you as their legacy. No one can take away what Stiles taught him, just like no one can take what he learned from his mother away from Stiles.  
He sits there, stroking the keys, and the place Stiles used to sit. Then, out of nowhere, an idea pops into his head. He tried to write lyrics before, and they weren’t bad, but they weren’t that good either, because he wasn’t even sure what he was writing about, didn’t know what he was supposed to write about. But it’s different now. He plays a couple of notes and soon has a melody he likes. He can’t read sheet music well so he doesn’t bother; keeps the melody very simple and easy to remember. He sings random thoughts about how he feels, and then it hits him. He wants to write a song.

The words just keep coming after that. He writes down pretty much everything he’s been repeating to Stiles over the past couple of days, writes down everything he feels and then tries to select a few thoughts that are the most important to him. He comes up with rhymes pretty easily and soon he has something that definitely looks like song lyrics. He tries not to think about anything else; he keeps himself distracted with synchronizing the words with the melody and practicing to sing and play it at the same time.  
He stays up all night, tidying up the song. He dozes off a couple of times, but doesn’t really get sleep. In the morning, he takes another shower because showers feel good. He then heads to the hospital, humming the song he wrote.  
He wrote a song. That’s kind of a big thing for him. He feels proud and sad at the same time, and he thinks about how exhausted he is feeling because all of these feelings. He just wishes he wouldn’t feel a thing for a while.

*

He ends up being late for work. After five days of barely getting any sleep, he dozes off in the chair placed besides Stiles’ hospital bed and sleeps for almost five hours. He feels better when he wakes up, but then remembers work, and Erica, and being late. When he finally gets there he talks to Erica, tells her about Stiles (“A _boyfriend_?”) and the situation. He gets a week off and a kind of weird "if you need to talk" friendship out of it.  
It turns out Erica is pretty awesome after all.

*

When Stiles passes away two days later, Derek isn’t there to witness it, but John is. Derek comes rushing to the hospital, only to find John in the hallway, his head buried into his hands, his shoulders shaking violently. Derek chants “no, no, no” as he runs down the hallway. The Sherriff looks up and shakes his head at him, and he understands. He spent the last two months mentally preparing himself for this, but he didn’t think it would happen so soon. They said six months. Six, not two.  
“He woke up and I was so excited,” John mutters, more to himself than to Derek. “I got so excited and I shouted for Melissa and we thought he would be better, he just opened his eyes and looked around and we were so happy for a moment, and then he started coughing up blood and—they couldn’t save him. I’m so sorry.”  
Derek finds the closest bathroom and throws up in one of the stalls. He can’t process it, he can’t. He doesn’t believe it. He wants to shout but no sound comes out. His eyes are wide and his heart is beating fasten than he’s ever felt it. His vision starts getting blurry and he panics. He wheezes, trying to breathe but finds that he can’t; he’s going to drown. He’s going to die.

“Derek?” he hears the faint voice before him. He recognizes the Sheriff kneeling before him, but can’t put it together why he’s here. “Derek, you have to breathe. You’re having a panic attack.”

*

When he proposes the idea of singing at the funeral to the Sherriff he immediately says yes.

It’s only when he’s up on the small stage set up at the cemetery that he realizes he never sang to anyone but him. No one has heard him sing before, only Stiles. But Stiles is never going to hear him sing again. He considers himself lucky that he gets to say goodbye like this, since it was so important for them; that white piano and the songs they played together. Who knows, maybe Stiles will hear Derek singing to him for the last time.  
He says a few words about Stiles and how music was an important part of their lives, then sits down in front of the piano. He strokes the keys for a moment, and with a deep breath, he starts playing.

“ _Say something, I’m giving up on you_ ” he sings.  
“ _I’ll be the one if you want me to_ ”  
He looks down at the friends and relatives as he keeps singing. He catches Scott’s eye, who looks absolutely baffled. Next to him, Allison is covering her mouth with one hand, crying harder than before. He looks over them once again, figures it’ll be easier if he doesn’t look at them at all. He keeps his eyes focused on a distant point of the sky, continuing the song.

“ _And I am feeling so small, It was over my head, I knew nothing at all_ ” He closes his eyes, remembering Stiles, his Stiles, how he would’ve liked this song, how he’s never going to hear it. “ _And I will stumble and fall, I’m still learning to love, Just starting to crawl_ ”  
He hears sniffling from the crowd as he breaks into the chorus, louder than before, pouring his heart into the performance. It’s not for them, it’s for Stiles, but he hopes they can appreciate it.

“ _And I will swallow my pride, You’re the one that I love, And I’m saying goodbye_ ” His voice breaks when he sings it, but he doesn’t stop, he finishes with another chorus, this time louder and sounding more pained, letting himself sing like he feels. 

“ _Say something_ ” He manages to finish the song without crying. They all clap, and when he looks at them he sees tear-streaked faces. When he gets down from the small stage, John embraces him in a tight hug and doesn’t let go for minutes. 

“Thank you” he cries into his shoulder. Derek keeps patting his shoulder until he calms down a bit. “Stiles would’ve loved it.”

*

After that, Derek never sings in front of anyone again. Not because he doesn’t like singing or because he’s afraid to do so in front of other people.

He still sings to Stiles.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic in English that I actually posted on the internet, EVER! It's also my first angsty fic so please bear with me. I have a lot to work on, but I hope you can enjoy it anyway. Unbeta'd so any mistakes are my own. Also, I did some research on lung cancer, but I didn't want to go into details, and I didn't want to write something stupid so... sorry about that. Inspired by the song 'Say something' by Great Big World. Comments and opinions are appreciated, even if it's just to point out a mistake or a typo, please let me know what you think!


End file.
